


babydoll

by orphan_account



Category: 2NE1
Genre: D/s, Dress Up, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:10:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2116290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dara is all about trust exercises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	babydoll

**Author's Note:**

> fun kinky not-really-porn. thank you k for looking it over you're my fav!!!

"Everything, Chaerin," Dara says over her shoulder, and Chaerin only hesitates for a second before she pushes her underwear down, shimmies it down her legs and steps out of it. She kicks them to the side and stands still again, hands clasped behind her.

"I'm going to blindfold you this time," Dara says, and Chaerin tenses before she can stop herself.

"I wouldn't look," she says, but the way her voice rises makes it sound like a whine. She can feel her cheeks heat up. It's an inappropriate way to behave.

"I know," Dara says gently. "I trust you. But I want you to trust me." She puts a cool hand to Chaerin's cheek. "Okay?" Chaerin nods.

"Good girl," Dara says, and presses something that feels like silk to Chaerin's eyes. It's thin; she could probably see through it if she opened her eyes, but she won't. Dara trusts her.

Dara steps away once she's knotted it, being careful of Chaerin's hair, but Chaerin can still hear her padding around the room, pulling open drawers and closets.

“You have so much _clothing_!” she says, her voice light. Chaerin wants to be defensive, but she knows Dara’s not trying to accuse her, and she can already feel herself starting to float, swaying a little on the balls of her feet. Dara holds something soft up to her chest, and the movement sends a tiny breeze across her stomach, but she can just feel the cottony texture on her nipples. She sighs, too loudly, but Dara just pats her side and steps away again. 

Dara brings her underwear next, but she kneels in front of Chaerin to put it on, lifting one foot then the other, then pulls it up her legs. She’s careful not to touch Chaerin’s skin, but she’s so close it almost doesn’t matter, like being in her personal space is as good as her hands firm on the back of Chaerin’s thighs.

Not quite, Chaerin thinks, coming back into her head a little, but then Dara puts her hands on Chaerin’s breasts, pushing them in towards her chest, and Chaerin shudders. She tilts her head back as Dara laughs, trying to control her breathing, but she’s focused on the pads of Dara’s hands, the little callouses she’s getting on the left from her guitar, and how still they are on her skin.

“How’s this for a bra,” Dara says, giggling, then draws her hands away, but slowly, finger by finger. When she’s gone, Chaerin slumps and her eyes flutter, briefly. She doesn’t see anything but she squeezes them shut anyway. She likes the boundaries of the blindness, in this context, at least. Chaerin knows she can imagine Dara’s face, knows her so well, she can picture how she reacts to everything. Chaerin moving, keeping her eyes shut, shifting just enough to feel Dara’s fingers again.

She’s thinking about the way Dara laughs when she comes back, with a bra this time. She doesn’t touch now, carefully hooks the bra on with her arms encircling Chaerin without letting their arms brush, but she runs a finger once across the curve of the cup when she’s done, setting Chaerin’s chest on fire. She puts a hand to her cheek, too, cupping her jaw.

“How are we doing?” Dara says softly. Chaerin nods, not sure she’s able to speak, but apparently it’s good enough.

Dara strides around the room more purposefully now, pulling things out and throwing them at Chaerin’s bed, probably. She lingers there for a while, then, rustling and making noises to herself, and Chaerin edges her heels a little farther apart, clasps her hand behind her back, but she lets herself soak in the sound of Dara, and by the time Dara is making louder sounds of contentment, Chaerin feels relaxed and soft again, her body buzzing distantly.

When Dara comes back, she lays something down next to Chaerin, and the fabric falls onto her feet slightly. Not rough, but not soft, and a little heavy on her foot, like it’s linen but thick. Chaerin wiggles her toes only to have Dara swoop in and push it away.

“Whoops!” she says, and Chaerin knows this specific smile, the edges of Dara’s mouth pulling into a huge, teasing grin, even if Chaerin can’t see her do it. Dara lifts her feet one by one again, slides what must be shorts up her leg, but they’re softer than the other material. Cotton, maybe, Chaerin thinks, then realizes she doesn’t care.

Dara stands up then, and whips one of Chaerin’s favorite tank tops over her head. She can feel the way the inner seams have worn against her hip, and smiles, then realizes how still she’s kept her face this whole time, how flat her mouth.

“Look at that,” Dara murmurs, then picks up the heavy material. She brings it over Chaerin’s head, tugging slowly, and it feels nice on her arms. Still not soft, really, but solid, hanging on her. The hem comes down past her hips when Dara’s done, and Chaerin feels weighted, but not too much. She’s comfortable and coming back into her body, slowly, noticing the way Dara’s hands feel sitting on her hips. They stand like that for a minute, and Chaerin breathes.

Dara takes the blindfold off slowly, unknotting it as carefully as she had tied it, then sliding the silk off of Chaerin’s eyes. Chaerin takes a minute to open her eyes, make the adjustment careful, only to find Dara has dimmed the lights and is smiling softly at her.

“Can I,” Chaerin says, but Dara’s already shaking her head.

“Nope!” she says cheerfully. “I already covered all the mirrors in here.” Chaerin can feel threads of panic rising on her face, but Dara just lifts an eyebrow.

“Sorry, unnie,” Chaerin says, and burns a little, but Dara just grabs her face in both hands.

“You’re so pretty, Chaerin,” she says. Her face is unusually serious, and she stares into Chaerin’s eyes long enough that Chaerin wants to flinch away. But she does.

“Trust me, baby,” she says, and Chaerin does.


End file.
